Very almost his own world
by Keyo-Red Angel of Hope
Summary: In the wake of the battle with Lord of Fantasy and his DLeter, an author looks out over his damaged world and thinks. Inspired by CrazyEight's 'The wages of fan's is fiction'.


It was very almost his world.

Looking out of the window, the author admired it all laid out before him. It went beyond this city, at least two worlds almost all under his creation. Not all of it was ever described in what he wrote, but it was all there, in his mind, and so it was all here before him. And he had almost lost it.

He was a fanfiction author, playing with the worlds and people created by others for his own stories, but he was different from the majority. He had taken the concept, the universe of the originals and crafted his own version with its own people, its own heroes and villains. OCs, Original Characters, and it was an OC world he looked over. Like all authors of the FanFic Domain he was capable of coming here, existing in avatar form, but he found himself spending much of his time in the little office he'd crafted for himself. It had no role in the story, but it was here for him, where he could have peace to write and think, a beautiful view over the city to the waterfront, the light of the setting sun shining in.

And he'd almost lost it all.

Looking out, his view was tainted by smoke and damaged buildings from the backlash of a great battle, some buildings just crumbled while there were spots that just faded away into nothingness.

The Lord of Fantasy.

D-Leter.

They had caused so much trouble for the residents of the domain, the Lord of Fantasy's plan to re-write the lives of the Digimon 01 and 02 casts to his liking, his incredibly absurd liking if the rumors of Davis and Kari and Gatomon and Veemon pairings were true. His creation of the great beast D-Leter and his corruption of the central domain, not to mention the purging of other's stories, had disrupted the entire site and left the Digimon section in tatters. Almost all of the authors had plunged into repairing the domain and the damaged sections of the Digimon story worlds, but, as it often was, the OC worlds were largely forgotten about, ignored, cared for only by their creators.

Cut off from the central Domain, they had begun to crumble. Stories exist only with belief, something, or rather someone to will them into existence. Cut off from the website, he had been unable to get to his world. OCs and their worlds weren't adored by thousands, their nuances burned into people's hearts, their wasn't enough faith floating around to sustain them. Cut off, the belief it needed had been too. He wished he hadn't been unable to go to the final battle, he wished he'd been able to do something then, but he hadn't, so he focused on the now, working to restore his world and help others to restore theirs.

Some authors had scolded him and disapproved of him for placing the OC worlds, particularly his own, before the Domain and main Digimon worlds. Some called him selfish, others foolish, wasting his time on untrue worlds. He reminded them that victory had only been possible, and had been carried out, by OCs. That shut many of them up fast.

Not all were prejudiced; a helluvalot of them understood how much the world must matter to him. Placing his hand upon the window, and leaning his head against it, he breathed deep. He loved that smell. Ginger.

"Your tea is ready sir."

Turning, he smiled at his secretary. She wasn't real, not exactly. She was another OC creation. Not one of his, she belonged to someone else. Who he didn't know, she had turned up in his world one day, lost and bemused and he tried to find a place for her. As it was, this was the only place she could have a place. Her design was mostly human, with long auburn hair down her back and shining green eyes, clad in deep blue jacket and skirt and white shirt. She was not so human in that she had a long bushy fox like tail and long diamond shaped furry ears growing out from the side of her head through her hair. Definitely an Eevee girl from the Pokemon section, similar rules to a cat girl, ears, tail, mannerisms, only an Eevee instead.

"Thank you Eve." He smiled as she placed the tray on his desk, lifting both of the mugs and leaving the piece of country slice cake behind, she walked to stand by him, giving him one of the mugs before drinking from her own.

"It's looks so different." She sighed, her eyes sagging. "Not as beautiful. And the clouds are so wrong."

Nodding, the author took a sip himself, squinting a little at the heat of the liquid, unsure of how his companion was able to drink it at this temperature.

"Given that there's a gaping square of nothingness up there and a battleship poking through over on that side I'm not surprised it looks different."

"You can fix it though, right?"

Looking down at Eve, noting not for the first time how much shorter she was, he gave her a tired, but reassuring, smile.

"I wouldn't be much of an author if I couldn't. What's a few more late nights?"

Taking another sip, he almost spluttered as Eve gently elbowed him.

"You stay up too late as it is. It's not good for you."

"Awww. You don't want me around?" The author pouted, pretending to sulk.

"I just don't want you sleeping through all your classes." Eve swatted at him with one hand to ward off his puppy dog eyes.

The pair suddenly jumped when a ringing phone cut into their tranquility. Turning fast and almost spilling her tea, Eve scurried towards the office door, mouthing an apology before leaving and rushing to her desk to attend to the ringing phone. Drinking down his tea he followed her to the door, closing it quietly, giving Eve a small nod as she flicked through the date book.

Wolfing down the country slice and finishing off his tea, the author walked to the pedestal that stood by his desk and lifted the hat from it. It was shaped like a classic wizards hat, blue and decorated with stars. He had based it upon the hat from Phantasia, feeling it was suitably symbolic of magical powers fit to change the world. Rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt, he donned that hat and walked to the window, raising his arms up, causing the light in the office to dim before becoming all black, leaving him with only the illuminated window. Flicking one hand, he summoned an uncapped pen; the lid attached to the bottom, and began to conduct. After the first movement, music exploded around him and the colored lights filled the sky as an aurora appeared, its rainbow colors appearing first in waves before moving like a serpent, before creating a hand that pushed at the ship hanging in the sky, while other tendrils soaked into the black spots, filling them with color and existence.

Might as well get the big things done first.

Bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun he conducted his thoughts to repair the world before him.

It was almost his world, and he had almost lost it. But he would definitely fix it, not simply for those who read its stories, but for the characters who lived here, for Eve, and because he loved it all so dearly. This very almost his own world.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Keyo: **Since reading Crazy Eight's 'Wages of Fan's is Fiction' story I began to think of how I would have felt, as an author, in that scearnrio, and I suppose this is the product. The original story, and it's sequal, have alot of discussion regarding views of characters, both canon and OC, and their existance, so I began to wonder about the worlds the OC stories exist in. Additionally, my views on DavisxKairi and VeemonxGatomon are just my views. So please don't lynch me.

Also, do yourselves a favour and read 'Wages', it's very good.


End file.
